


Dreaming of a Prom Queen

by ShinSolo



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, M/M, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinSolo/pseuds/ShinSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl that sits in front of Tom in homeroom has the best underwear, the kind of underwear dreams are made of. They look so delicate he swears he could rip them off with his teeth. He longs to know if they are as soft as they look, what they'd feel like against his groin as he pressed up against her from behind. Too bad Georg doesn't understand and Gustav thinks he's lost his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of a Prom Queen

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song "Prom Queen" by Lil Wayne, but it has nothing to do with Lil Wayne at all. I promise

The girl that sat in front of Tom in homeroom had the best underwear, the sheer lacy kind that came up in a “T” right above the waist of her low rise jeans. They were the kind of underwear dreams were made of--well day dreams at least. His teacher was always reprimanding him for staring at the floor, for not looking up at the board, for not taking notes. Little did she know he was never looking at the floor. Those beige and brown tiles had nothing on what resided not even two and a half feet above them.

 

All it took was for her to lean forward ever so slightly, her shirt rising up a few inches, and Tom was instantly fixated on the strip of lace and sometimes satin. They looked so delicate he swore he could rip them off with his teeth. He longed to know if they were as soft as they looked, what they’d feel like against his groin as he pressed up against her from behind.

 

Before he knew it, he was failing English, Algebra, and even Geography. She sat in front of him in everyone of his classes except Gym--then they were completely hidden beneath her gym shorts. It was probably for the best. Baggy jeans could hide an erection far easier than flimsy warm up pants.

 

She wore her hair dark and long down her back, a sure sign of a whore--as Andreas so kindly put it. Tom didn’t find her very whorish though, if she was then surely he would have had her by now. No, if she was a whore he’d have been failing gym as well for the sheer fact that he’d keep her pinned against the faded red brick walls of the locker-room from 1:20 - 2:15PM every single day.

 

What made matters worse, was that Georg totally didn’t understand his addiction to her at all. He’d only groan and roll his eyes every time he caught Tom’s eyes straying toward the girl’s table, where the way she sat on the wooden lunchroom tables caused her panties to ride up even higher, dangerously higher.

 

“Totally not my type,” he’d say, his nose and lips squishing up in a frown.

 

Gustav would only laugh, tease Tom with muttered, ‘whatever gets you off’s.

 

Every other Thursday morning, the girl would have her acrylics repainted at the nail salon down on Geldstrasse, and Tom would come to class early, wondering what color they would be this time. Once she kept them dark blue and silver six weeks in a row, and Tom’s dreams have been haunted by blue and silver nails digging into the flesh of his back ever since. The dreams were so vivid he once woke up with four nearly parallel welts down both sides. Another time he woke up with what could only be a rabid mosquito bite on his throat despite how much it looked like a hickey. Georg never believed it was just a mosquito, and Gustav teased him about vampires in Magdeburg for months.

 

It wasn’t until the weeks leading up to Senior Prom that Tom got the courage to ask her out. She just stared back at him, eyes wide and lip gloss slick lips parted. He shifted, looked down at the floor, bracing himself for rejection. But right when he’d accepted the fact that he wasn’t getting an answer, a pair of arms wrapped around him and a strawberry sweet kiss was pressed to his lips.

 

“Tomi, I’d love to!”

 

Gustav gasped, his jaw dropping. Someone nearby dropped their books. The entire hall seemed to grow silent in shock, but it might have just been Tom’s imagination. The world had already stopped for him, why not for everyone else as well?

 

Tom blushed when his dream girl pressed against him even closer, his hands slipping around and cupping her ass for a brief second before she pulled away with a smirk. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until he was safely in the boys’ restroom a few minutes later.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Georg said, glaring at Tom, his eyes narrowed in anger. “In the fucking high school hall during a fucking class change of all places?”

 

Everything was slowly beginning to speed back up for Tom, reality setting in. He had no answer for Georg, and Gustav was laughing so hard he could hardly stand. And despite it all, Tom had a grin on his face he just couldn’t seem to wipe off. Even when Georg reached forward and shook him, he just grinned even wider, his hat falling a little more crooked then normal. He had a date, with--in his opinion--the hottest chick in the entire school.

 

The countdown to prom didn’t do much to ease the tension or the nerves. Georg eventually calmed down, went back to rolling his eyes, pretending he didn’t see the smirks and blown kisses Tom’s staring now received in return. And even though Gustav still claimed he didn’t care either way, Tom grew jealous every time he noticed his friend’s eyes lingering on his prize.

 

But the hardest part by far was that, despite agreeing to be his prom night date, he still couldn’t get the girl to do anything more than cuddle with him. She was saving herself for something, but would only giggle and pull him back down next to her in the dark every time he asked what for, the bedside clock’s red display screen the only light in the room. More and more often Tom would find arms still wrapped around his waist with morning’s first light, would feel lips pressed to his, followed by the sound of bare feet on the wood floor.

 

His mom never even questioned, never even mentioned she knew.

 

When the day of the big night finally arrived, Tom was shocked to find a note pinned to his mirror, informing him in his brother’s curvy script that his date had called, that she didn’t want to go to prom after all. He thought he night actually cry until he turned the note over, noticed the P.S. She might not want to go to the dance, but she did want to see him, at his house, alone. Tom swallowed, his hands shaking all over again.

 

By 6PM, Tom had changed clothes at least eight times. The house was quiet, his mom and Gordon had gone out, Bill was nowhere to be seen. He sat down on his bed, laid back, and before he knew it, had actually fallen asleep.

 

He woke up half an hour later to the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. His dream became reality as his date settled astride his waist, pressed another strawberry sweet kiss to his lips, pressed her hips down against his.

 

“I’m ready, Tomi,” the words were soft and breathy against his ear. “I’m so ready for you to fuck me.”

 

Tom was hard and completely undressed in a matter of seconds, the outfit he’d planned so carefully discarded onto the floor with his dates clothes quickly following--everything but those damn underwear he had always known would be the death of him.

 

He ran his hands over the lace, looped his thumbs in the back of the thong’s “T”, then when he couldn’t take it any longer he flipped her over onto her stomach and sunk his teeth into the back band, ripping them off before she could complain about how much they’d cost. His fingers pressed inside of her entrance, a moan working its way up from her throat when he noticed she was already so wet and ready for him.

 

“Gonna fuck you so hard…” he breathed, his cock so hard, so eager. “Gonna make you scream louder than you’ve ever screamed for me before…”

 

She narrowed her coal painted eyes, pulled his hair hard enough to reach the scalp, and he was inside her to the hilt before he could earn any other objections.

 

“Oh God, just like that…” The words came out low and needy, and a leg hooked around his waist as he was pulled in even deeper.

 

The words, the warmth, the tightness: they all went straight to Tom’s groin, making the wait even better.

 

In the end, they were loud--both of them--and the nails Tom had admired from a distance for so long left beautiful patterns across the pale skin of his back. And when they came, one a few moments before the other, all pretense was completely lost. All games were pushed aside. There were no more rules.

 

Tom’s name left Bill’s lips, and Bill’s name left Tom’s. When Tom finally pulled out, they both laughed.

 

“Worth the wait? Fucking the Prom Queen?” Bill asked, his fingers trailing up his stomach, spreading his come over his chest.

 

Tom grinned.

 

“Definitely worth the wait… But next time, we play the trashy ‘fuck on the first date after only a week of heavy flirting’ game, and you’re wearing the satin panties when we finally hook up, got it?”

 

Bill just laughed and pulled Tom to him for a soft yet lingering kiss.

 

“Deal, but for right now? How about we reply that last scene play by play, only this time, in slow motion…”

 

“Sounds just about perfect...” Tom groaned, his tongue pushing between Bill’s lips, his cock already beginning to grow hard once again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written 02/21/2010.


End file.
